Last Library
by transient acuity
Summary: Actually, this story is an addition to Bradbury's Martian Chronicles.  It is set directly before Usher II and deals with similar themes.  Please read Usher II for a full appreciation.


April 2005: The Last Library

"Welcome to our humble town, good sirs," Mr. Morton extended a meaty hand in welcome to his guests.

"Thank you, mayor," A thin pallid hand greeted his and gave it a rigid shake.

"I am Roderick Owen, Director of Moral Climates, and this is my associate, Investigator Steffens. We're here to ensure compliance with the laws of propriety." The man's gray eyes fixed sharply on Mr. Morton as he spoke.

The mayor straightened his shoulders, "You will find my town to be a perfect example of equanimity and sobriety."

The gray eyes flickered, "Very well then, Mr. Steffens, what does the town's file say?"

The Investigator smoothed his straw hair, tapped a few silver keys on his data pad and shimmering emerald text appeared. "Let's see here, ah yes, file 144697: district, Minnesota II; location, Spender Hill; town name, Electric Village; date of founding, 7 October 2004; houses, 6; population, 13; mayor, Mr. J. Morton; last inspection date, unavailable." Mr. Steffens tapped the keys again and thirteen photos appeared on the pad. "Seems that none of the residents have any marks on their records." Mr. Morton smiled and clapped his hands together with a muffled smack. "See there, Director, only perfectly proper people here."

The director shot a glance at the mayor and waved a skeletal hand at Mr. Steffens.

"What about suspicion of impropriety?" he asked, pointedly. A few more strokes of the silver keys by Investigator Steffens followed.

"Well it does seem that one John Jones was under suspicion of funding a private library, but that was never confirmed." Inspector Steffens looked up from his pad and squinted at the surrounding houses. "It seems that he lives in house 006."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, see here. Mr. Jones is an upstanding member of our community and is just as moral as when he lived on earth." Mr. Morton's round face grew red as he spoke.

"Now, now, Mr. Morton, there is no need to be alarmed. If nothing inappropriate is going on, then there will be no trouble. Now, if you can just take us around your town, we can do our inspection and be on our way." Mr. Owen's smooth reply stopped the spreading of color in the mayor's face.

"Very well then, shall we begin with the library?" Mr. Morton waved a red clad sleeve in the direction of a tall, silver building. Director Owen nodded sharply and motioned for Mr. Morton to lead the way.

"How odd, a perfect cube, most unusual proportions for a library." Director Owen smiled thinly as he entered through the stainless steel door. Investigator Steffens followed, tapping furiously on his data pad as the director spoke. The mayor led them though several rows of black leather-bound books.

As you can see, we only keep the most realistic and concrete books here," the may explained, spreading his arms wide. "We have Biology, Chemistry, I and II level Mathematics, Rocketry, History, all Moral Climates approved, of course." Mr. Morton led them to a small glass-walled cube that reached twelve feet into the air. The chamber contained four glass chairs and a glass table with a crystal keyboard in the center. At the table sat a small dark man reading a black leather-bound book. The dark man's eyes darted up from his book and surveyed the red clad mayor and his two gray clad companions.

"Oh yes, Mr. Jones, I had forgotten you would be here. These men are Mr. Owen and Mr. Steffens from Moral Climates." Mr. Jones nodded solemnly at both in turn. "Mr. Owen, I believe you were commenting on the shape of the building, Mr. Jones is the one who designed it, he is something of an architect." Mr. Owen fixed his gaze on the man sitting before him.

"Architecture is not a common occupation, Mr. Jones, it smacks of impropriety. There are blueprints available at Moral Climates for any building you would like to construct." The director looked around the chamber with an air of distaste. Mr. Jones set down his leather volume with a muffled thud and contemplated the director.

"I looked through the blueprints and incorporated their parameters into the design, but I couldn't find one that matched the size the town needed."

"See, no flight of fancy, simple stark necessity," the may interjected as he thrust a heavy hand towards the exit. "Now, Director Owen, Investigator Steffens, shall we see the rest of the town?" Investigator Steffens looked up blearily from his data pad and muttered a few words to the director.

"If you don't mind mayor, we would like to take a brief stroll around your library on our own." The director's sharp gaze left no room for objection.

"Of course, if you need anything in particular, just let me know." As the two men disappeared into the rows of shelves, Mr. Jones' dark eyes burned after them.

"Why are they here?" he asked.

"Apparently, Moral Climates arrived in force about a week ago. They've already burned and dismantled three or four of the towns and they are here to investigate ours." Mr. Morton sighed as he slumped into one of the chair. Mr. Jones glared accusingly at the mayor.

"I thought you said that we would be free here, tat Moral Climates wouldn't ever come to this world." Mr. Jones' eyes shifted and his voice was dark as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Do they know?" His question was a plea.

"Maybe. Maybe not, I didn't expect them to come so soon, I wasn't ready." The mayor's frown deepened.

"Perhaps they will just leave us alone," Mr. Jones murmured, knowing he was wrong.

"No, Mr. Jones, the civilization we left is like a disease. It is destroying earth and it seems to spreading on this planet as well. I'm afraid we can't stop it." As the mayor spoke, the two gray men reappeared from behind the shelves. Eyes glinting, Mr. Owen stepped into the glass chamber, shining silver gun drawn.

"Mr. Steffens, if you please." The Investigator stepped forward and tapped a few keys on the table's keyboard. He picked up his data pad and pressed a small red button. A light shot out from the pad and glinted against the glass walls. The walls of the chamber were suddenly ablaze with emerald text. "My, my, Mr. Morton, this is quite a feat. Let's see, Rumpelstiltskin, Mother Goose, the Wizard of Oz, Jack and the Bean Stock, Alice in Wonderland…You have quite a collection of vile fantasy. I must say it is quite clever, hiding it in plain sight." Mr. Owen tapped his sharp chin with a skeletal finger. "I will have the Dismantlers and the Burning Crew out here within the hour." Mr. Morton sighed and slumped even further, but Mr. Jones sprang to his feet.

"How dare you destroy this! These are the last copies of these wonderful stories! You stinking Moral Climates people have already killed off all of Earth's fantasy and joy, why take Mars'?" Mr. Jones screamed, his face shining with indignation. Mr. Owen was unmoved. He shook his head coldly and motioned to Investigator Steffens.

"Cuff them, we cannot have dangerous fanatics like this disturbing the peace. And tell the Burning Crew to hurry it up, we have a party at Mr. Stendahl's new estate to get to."

An hour later, Director Owen and Investigator Steffens watched the Burning Crew melt the data filled glass and turn the library to ash.

As soon as the ash had settled, Mr. Owen and Mr. Steffens took off in their rocket and set course for Mr. Stendahl's estate.


End file.
